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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752662">sometimes it just takes an agent of the universe</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcanbarbie/pseuds/trashcanbarbie'>trashcanbarbie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adult Hermione Granger, BAMF Hermione Granger, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Cute Ending, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, F/M, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Minor, Pining, Pining Draco Malfoy, and she knows it lol, draco malfoy is just in love with her, mutual</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:48:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,441</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752662</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashcanbarbie/pseuds/trashcanbarbie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco looks at the number in his hand and realizes she can't ever ring it. Not when he's thinking of her when other people are flirting with him. </p><p> </p><p>He leaves the number on the counter and waves off the approaching coffee pot, sliding off his stool and shrugging back into his jacket, he practically runs out of that diner.</p><p> </p><p>The waitress laughs as he leaves, and he wonders why.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger &amp; Harry Potter &amp; Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sometimes it just takes an agent of the universe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span> Post-War, the world has been different for Draco Malfoy. </span>
  <span>The rules are different, his influence has shifted — from a </span>
  <span>surprisingly</span>
  <span> large percentage of the wizarding world that he had the ability to control just by the use of last name, to a few ratty men who still idolize the Dark Lord, but there's </span>
  <span>not many</span>
  <span> of them left</span>
  <span>. He doesn't care about those men, anyways. He's actually met Voldemort, served in his personal circle, and it's not anything to revere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There's a few new things: a chunk of his fortune bitten out of the Malfoy vaults (not enough to sting, don't worry), a parole officer, a curfew he flouts and a new world that hates him</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then again, he deserves </span>
  <span>all of</span>
  <span> it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After the war, Draco faded into nothing. There was a bit of hubbub about the trial and his sentencing, and then nothing. People forgot about him. All the others went into greatness. Jobs and galas and speeches. </span>
  <span>Granger ended up working in The Ministry — some department no one </span>
  <span>really</span>
  <span> cares about, Potter as an auror, Weasley as well, </span>
  <span>briefly</span>
  <span>, now he’s doing something with the Chudley Cannons</span>
  <span>. Draco doesn’t know and doesn't </span>
  <span>really</span>
  <span> care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all featured in gossip mags and front-page news over such and such, weddings and babies and breakups (those last two involve Hermione and a certain Weasel). The whole world knows their names, just as well as they know Draco’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hasn't seen any of the three — except Potter. He ran into him at the ministry a while back — he's gotta report in every so often. </span>
  <span>It was a little weird, they </span>
  <span>just</span>
  <span> looked at each other, and Draco said, "hullo, Potter," and he said, "Malfoy," and Draco almost said sorry before he realised Potter doesn't need or want his apology</span>
  <span>. So they left, and neither of them looked back. He thinks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now he’s living in a nice enough flat in London, figuring out what the fuck to do with the rest of his life. Right now he's hungry, so he's going to postpone figuring that out till he can eat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He apparates to the corner of a dingy little side street under a streetlight and walks along the cracked pavement until he links up to a busier street, stepping into the flow of the crowd </span>
  <span>effortlessly</span>
  <span>. He likes muggle life, or the muggle world. The wizarding one used to be his everything, he never left it -- he didn't need to. Now, it's the opposite. In the muggle part of London, people don't look at him like he's scum, nobody cares. He can go anywhere and not </span>
  <span>be stared</span>
  <span> at. It's </span>
  <span>surprisingly</span>
  <span> freeing. Draco has realised he’s never had that, no one watching him. And he fucking loves it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits to cross the road and no one looks and points and whispers. He walks past people huddled on the corners, smoking and laughing and they don’t look at him with disgust.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He steps inside a diner, </span>
  <span>relatively</span>
  <span> warm, and no one gets up and leaves. It's completely empty, a ghostland. It is late, to be fair. Everyone else awake now are stumbling out of clubs, wiping their noses.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You waitin’ for anyone?” the young waitress asks him, passing a menu over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Just</span>
  <span> for one,” he says to her, studying the specials.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She looks up, stops chewing her gum. “Oh, </span>
  <span>really</span>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looks up, too, meets her eyes. “Yeah. </span>
  <span>Just</span>
  <span> me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shame,” she remarks, eyes boring into his. Her nails tap on the counter, they’re long and purple.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He half-smiles and thinks of her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>her, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and how she’d enjoy this story and the diner — it’s so...anonymous, isn’t it? It feels like the setting in a novel about some sort of big important social issue, doesn’t it, Draco? “Isn’t it?” he parrots her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The waitress shrugs. Her name tag reads TAMMY,  but Draco would bet the villa in France that's not her name. “It's </span>
  <span>just</span>
  <span>...someone like you should be with someone, y’know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should be?” he laughs aloud in the empty diner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiles wider. Draco can see her gum. “Yeah, should be,” she says </span>
  <span>suggestively</span>
  <span>. Draco thinks of a first date, awkward and stilting but at the end she kisses him and asks him to do better, next time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slides her dumber across the table at him. He looks at the slip of paper with surprise. </span>
  <span>Not many</span>
  <span> people give him their number, but most of the people he meets are wizards, and any attraction there gets swallowed by the mark on his arm</span>
  <span>. “Take it. Call me,” she says, with a smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh —” he pauses, wondering how he's going to deal with this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But she's gone, in a whirl of perfume and extensions and something </span>
  <span>just</span>
  <span> a little bit unnerving, and he's left there, in all his pure-bloodedness stupor</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco looks at the number in his hand and realizes she can't ever ring it. Not when he's thinking of her when other people are flirting with him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaves the number on the counter and waves off the approaching coffee pot, sliding off his stool and shrugging back into his jacket, he </span>
  <span>practically</span>
  <span> runs out of that diner</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The waitress laughs as he leaves, and he wonders why.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She opens the door. There’s chatter and laughter behind her, and her cheeks </span>
  <span>are flushed</span>
  <span>. She’s been drinking. </span>
  <span>Her eyes widen, and for a second she looks almost angry and he's almost afraid — definitely afraid, then, she smiles</span>
  <span>. “Hi,” she breathes out, and he can breathe in again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grins wide and vicious. God, this feels so good.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Why don't you do this earlier, you idiot?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>  “You busy?” he drawls instead of saying any of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leans further towards him and says, in a confidential tone, “Harry and Ron are here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Mione, who's that?” one of them calls from behind her. It's Weasel. Draco’s perpetual bane of existence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You with him?” Draco asks. He knows she's not, but he doesn't know what else to say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione smiles </span>
  <span>widely</span>
  <span>, leaning against the doorway. She looks so happy in this gold light, so relaxed, and so divine. “We decided to part ways. Natural end. It was for the best.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He smiles back at her, leaning forward almost </span>
  <span>subconsciously</span>
  <span>, drawn into her, into her light</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mione?'' Ronald calls again, the voice is closer now. Draco wonders what he's gonna do when he sees him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Ron?” Hermione says, not looking back at the redhead, </span>
  <span>just</span>
  <span> staring forward at him. Draco has never felt so lucky.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ron does come around the corner, stepping out of the living room, and he makes it three and a half steps before his eyes lift from his shoes and land on Draco's face</span>
  <span>. “What….” he says the words falling out of his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ron,” she says, and finally turns. He takes the opportunity to study the back of his head. It looks much better than Third Year. “You remember Draco.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck?” Ron says to himself, </span>
  <span>quietly</span>
  <span>, then raises his voice, “what the absolute fuck, Hermione!” he demands, and steps forward, holding his beer bottle in the air like a spear. Draco raises his eyebrows and thinks about civility. “What's he doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hermione steps forward and intercepts him with a hand on his chest. “Ronald, stop it,” she says </span>
  <span>strictly</span>
  <span>. </span>
  <span>When he'd come out,  he'd looked so relaxed and happy and red, his face had been slack, but that kind of happy slack when you're still smiling from the last joke</span>
  <span>. Now, he’s a different kind of red. A furious red with narrowed eyes and a tight mouth slashed across his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What's going on?” </span>
  <span>A familiar pothead asks from what Draco assumes is the living room doorway, as she steps out into the corridor</span>
  <span>. Draco sees and watches the moment he sees Draco in the doorway. </span>
  <span>He takes a half step back in surprise, his head moving more than the rest of his body as he squints at the Malfoy through his thick glasses</span>
  <span>. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his whole face scrunching up in confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> I doing here?” Draco wonders, and leans on the doorway </span>
  <span>just</span>
  <span> like Granger is. They must look like a pair, old enemies cajoling together, like the dog and the cat sitting together. No, it's gotta be more of a </span>
  <span>mutually</span>
  <span> hateful relationship. </span>
  <span>Maybe</span>
  <span> more like the colossal squid and the sperm whale. Draco ignores the obvious joke in that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There's something I need to tell you two,” Hermione says to them, </span>
  <span>gravely</span>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco laughs </span>
  <span>heartily</span>
  <span> behind her. That feeling he gets in muggle London, freedom? He gets it here, too. “Don't make it sound so bad, Granger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey! </p><p>i've had this in the works for AGES and I finally got it posted, yay. it just needed that extra push. </p><p>thanks for reading. leave a comment/kudos if u did :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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